


Coalescence

by orphan_account



Series: Restraint and Abandon [1]
Category: White Collar
Genre: BDSM Scene, Blindfolds, F/F, F/M, Face-Fucking, Facials, M/M, Multi, OT4, Polyamory, Rope Bondage, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-18
Updated: 2014-08-18
Packaged: 2018-02-13 13:44:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2152863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They separate, reform, coalesce in new ways.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coalescence

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PhoenixFalls](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhoenixFalls/gifts).



They move together, now, the four of them. 

_[They orbit each other for a long time, as couples and individually. Sara and Neal have a past. Peter and Neal have a past. Neal and Elizabeth have a past shared in Peter, in years of chasing and running, cards and messages. When Neal and Sara first start dating, Elizabeth makes a point of inviting them to dinner as often as she thinks is appropriate. Even though Peter grumbles about it, she knows he secretly enjoys their company, knows that he approves of Sara as a partner for Neal, of the way she grounds him and brings him genuine happiness. Sara is funny and charming and beautiful too, so similar to Neal and yet opposite in many ways; feminine, yes, but harder, somehow, more fiercely independent where Neal needs people, thrives on interaction, on attention._

_The_ thing _that Elizabeth feels for Neal is a hot little secret inside her chest for years, beginning even before she knew him, back when all she had to go on was the forensic sketch of James Bonds and her husband’s single-minded obsession. Peter had been so intense back then. All the frustration and anger and focus he brought to the James Bonds case had become passion in the bedroom. Elizabeth had felt the ghost of Neal Caffrey there between them then, and when Neal solidifies in their lives, the same thing happens again. She isn’t sure whether Peter is aware of the sexual tension between the three of them at first, but the intensity comes back full force regardless._

_That sketch is funny to think about, now. Peter had brought a copy of it home and pinned it on the wall to stare at broodingly. She knows that Peter had been the one to describe Neal to the sketch artist, and sketch Neal has a little smirk on his face, as if he knows something you don’t. It captures all of Neal’s objectively chiselled good looks and his fake con artist charm but none of his character, not really – not the kind of character that you see when you know Neal the way she does. It looks just like him, and yet nothing like him, like Sara, like a funhouse mirror.]_

Peter has one hand tangled tight in Neal’s hair and the other on his ass as he pulls him close for a kiss. Peter is always like this with Neal: forceful and possessive, manhandling him and marking him, leaving finger-shaped bruises on his hips and vivid red hickies on his chest. Elizabeth loves to watch Neal submit to Peter’s insistent kisses and rough touches, to watch him present himself like an offering in Peter’s bed, in their bed. She glances across Neal and Peter’s entwined bodies to find Sara watching them too, her eyes dark and heavy-lidded with lust. Elizabeth feels a surge of heat and desire as she regards her: her red hair loose and thoughtlessly wild, her soft curves and pert breasts, her long legs fallen casually open as she touches herself lazily, her fierce hazel eyes focused on her boys. Their boys. Elizabeth leans over to kiss her, slow and open mouthed and familiar.

Eventually, Peter pulls away from Neal and reaches under the bed for a wooden box. 

_[It takes them a while to get to this point, even after they first fall into bed together. It’s Elizabeth who suggests it, after weeks of careful research on the internet. She spends enough time watching them, alone and together, to notice the way Peter’s eyes are always drawn to Neal’s anklet, the way his fingers trace absently over Neal’s wrists, the way Neal shudders and closes his eyes at the touch.]_

Peter traces Neal’s wrists now, murmuring quiet words in his ear. Elizabeth doesn’t try to hear them; some things belong to them, just as some things belong to her and Peter alone. Peter takes something from the box: a lovely silk scarf, one that had been Sara's once upon a time. He ties it carefully over Neal’s eyes and Neal gives a full body shiver, lets out a noise that's not quite a gasp. Elizabeth feels herself growing wet, feels arousal flood her body like a torrent, feels hot in her own skin with anticipation for what comes next. 

Peter removes the ropes from the box and places them on the bed reverently. Sara makes a soft sound and Neal squirms, unable to see but knowing something is coming. The ropes are beautiful, made of pure white silk.

_[Only the best, of course, given Neal Caffrey’s expensive tastes. Sometimes Elizabeth takes them out of the box when no one else is around, just to touch them, to feel them rich and cool against her skin.]_

“On your knees,” Peter says, all quiet authority, and Neal whimpers softly and complies. “Wrists behind you.” Peter places a vivid red pocket square into Neal’s hand and closes his fingers around it.

Watching Peter work is like watching the maestro at the symphony, like a master sculptor, like Neal at a canvas. 

_[It isn’t always. The learning process is slow, takes practice. Peter watches YouTube videos for a week straight, and Elizabeth has some of the best sex of her life when he comes to bed afterwards horny and desperate.]_

She holds her breath as Peter wraps the rope around Neal’s wrists, down around his cock and balls, up over his body in intricate patterns. Neal holds himself perfectly still throughout. He is a work of art, made only more beautiful by Peter's ropework. He could be chiselled from marble, like a statue of a Greek hero. 

_[Patroclus, Elizabeth thinks, but won’t allow herself to finish the thought. She already worries every day about the two of them out facing criminals with guns, or worse.]_

Though Peter still murmurs softly to Neal, the rest stay silent, awestruck, aside from the quiet hitches of Sara’s breath as she brings herself closer to the edge. When Peter is done, when Neal's entire torso is beautifully bound, he fixes the end of the rope using the hook attached to the ceiling, anchoring Neal. He runs his hands over Neal’s body, testing the knots, tugging the ropes so they rub against Neal's nipples and smiling, satisfied, when Neal moans, shocky and cut off as he catches himself. Peter takes a step back and strokes his cock to hardness watching Neal test the bonds for himself, straining against them, searching for a weakness. 

_[It doesn't always go quite like this. They separate, reform, coalesce in new ways._

_There are times when Elizabeth spends hours bringing Sara slowly to the edge again and again with her fingers and her tongue, taking her to pieces bit by blissful bit, revelling in the feminine curves of her body, the smell and taste of her._

_Every once in a while, Neal takes Elizabeth out on a date: him at his most charmingly roguish with his Rat Pack suit and fedora and her in a slinky dress and killer lipstick. She knows that he plays it up for her, for the rest, that he gets a kick out of it, and he knows that she knows. They’ll go to the opera, or to a gallery opening, and she’ll join in with whatever harmless con Neal wants to pull, will play at being the heiress with the trophy husband in her diamonds and pearls, resting her hand on the small of his back and enjoying the envious looks. She pretends not to notice when Neal lifts a wallet or a watch. He usually puts them back._

_Neal and Peter will hole themselves up for a weekend whilst Elizabeth and Sara spend time together or alone. Neither she nor Sara asks them what they do, but they’re always both energised for days afterwards. Once, after one of these weekends, Elizabeth finds Peter’s spare gun in the wooden box. She doesn’t ask.]_

Peter steps forward again and rubs his cock against Neal’s reddened lips. Neal opens his mouth obediently, and Elizabeth watches his throat work as he takes Peter in. Beside her, Sara moans unashamedly loudly and comes, body shaking. Neal makes a desperate noise around Peter’s cock. Peter has his hands on Neal’s head, in his hair, holding him, containing him, so all Neal can do is swallow him down and down again as Peter thrusts into his mouth, deep into his throat. There are tears running down his cheeks from under the blindfold, and his lips and chin are a mess of spit and precome. It’s not long before Peter is grunting and pulling out, coming in spurts over Neal’s face.

Elizabeth thinks Neal has never looked as beautiful as he does like this: debauched and wrecked, taken apart, stripped of all the layers of pretence and persona; of beautiful clothing designed to deceive, to lead the eye; of fake smiles and practiced charm. 

_[One day Neal gives her a new sketch, a self-portrait to replace James Bonds. It captures a look of serenity in his own face that is so familiar it makes her breath catch. She keeps both, each framed on the nightstand side by side.]_

**Author's Note:**

> I have a lot of feelings about sub!Neal and settled polyamory, apparently; I have some more ideas for things I want to write for this OT4 with this specific kinky bent, so hopefully this will be expanded into a little poly/kink!verse. 
> 
> Thanks to PhoenixFalls for the wonderfully inspiring prompts. I hope you enjoy it!
> 
> [For visual reference](https://p.gr-assets.com/540x540/fit/hostedimages/1403748798/10139146.jpg) (NSFW)


End file.
